


gravel biting into your palms and knees

by elevenoclock



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-03
Updated: 2011-07-03
Packaged: 2017-10-20 23:39:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/218349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elevenoclock/pseuds/elevenoclock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The mission had started off as a peace-keeping and diplomacy operation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	gravel biting into your palms and knees

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Session 4, Round 1 of The New Pub. The theme was "Textures & Sensations", and this piece was written in 20 minutes for the prompt "gravel biting into your palms and knees". Join us every Saturday afternoon at http://thenewpub.livejournal.com!

[original link](http://thenewpub.livejournal.com/6621.html)

The mission had started off as a peace-keeping and diplomacy operation, merely to act as an unbiased third party during the trade negotiations of two planets near the Neutral Zone. As soon as the order had come through, though, Bones had started prepping Medical for severe injuries, and the Security team had begun doing research on the planet where the trade talks were going to take place, formulating back-up plans after back-up plans for every scenario.

Jim Kirk has spent about five minutes rolling his eyes, and then shrugged and accepted that this wasn't actually an over-reaction, given the last three "peace-keeping" missions Star Fleet has sent them on.

Halfway through the negotiations, ducking to avoid phaser fire and feeling his hands and knees split open as he slid behind a building for cover, Jim also realized that they were probably _under_ -reacting.

"Moving on to Plan C," Cupcake said in his ear. Around him, the Security team that has accompanied him to the planet moved in reaction to the order.

"What about Plan Get-Us-Off-This-Rock?" Jim asked. He twisted around, firing a few shots. "Is there one of those?"

It was Scotty who spoke. "We're working on it, Captain," he said. "The planet's unusual atmosphere is making it difficult to get a lock on ye, though, and all the runnin' about certainly isn't helping."

Jim ignored the obvious command to stay still and pushed himself to his feet, wiping blood off his palms and racing to a neighboring building whose windows had been blown out.

"Also, your security team would appreciate if you could _stay still_ as well," Scotty added, in the strained tone of someone who was trying to translate a slew of cussing from the Head of Security into something more appropriate for the Captain's hearing.

Jim used the window to fire a few more shots at their attackers. "Why is it," he asked, "that these missions never go the way we expect them to?"

"Got a lock!" Scotty proclaimed, ignoring the question entirely. "Captain, do _not_ move."

Jim felt the familiar tingle as the transporter beam ensnared him, and then he was on the ship, bright, sterile lights surrounding him and the rest of the security team. Bones was already racing over with a tricorder, and security was quickly debriefing to figure out where the situation had turned south.

"But to answer your question," Scotty said, as Bones escorted him out of the room, "Would you really want a boring mission where everything goes as planned?"

Jim grinned at him. Everyone already knew the answer to that; besides, he reasoned, it gave his crew a chance to prove that they were the best.


End file.
